Finest Silver
by Pandora Finesilver
Summary: Not long after (insert timeline thing here), a young troll is discovered out in daylight, and is subsequently rescued by Jim. Later bringing the dazed, wounded troll down to Heartstone Trollmarket, she reveals some astounding information relating to their lives and irreversibly changes the course of their future. (Work in progress, self-insert, shennaghans ensue.)
1. Prologue: Daylight Saving

**Prologue** _: Daylight Saving_

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Daylight was waning, the shadows growing longer, birds chirping out goodnight to one another. The sky was slowly stained a darker blue, dotted by a few early stars, the horizon tinged purple-red from the clouds. A piercing scream broke the peace, a tall figure stumbling blindly, fleeing without knowing what they were fleeing from; the last deadly rays of sun.

Hitting a fence, they scrambled over and collapsed in a heap on the other side, uncoordinated and growing weak. A single weak ray of sun shone over the fence and between the trees branches, striking the figure in the side and one arm. Writhing but unable to stand or even move, the troll whelp moaned in pain.

And then the pain stopped. Something soft and smelling like lavender had been flung over her, blocking the deadly light.

"Hey, it's alright. You're safe now."

The young troll only whimpered, blacking out from the pain.

* * *

 **A/N: Work in progress, will add more as I go along. Don't like don't read. Sorry that the furst attempt read all screwy, not sure what happened.**

 **R &R**


	2. Silver and Ink

Daylight faded from the backyard, though light still reflected through the sky, lending light to those with poor night-vision, and dulled senses of smell (it was astounding how primitive humans were sometimes!).

Draal snorted, stepping out into the yard. The Trollhunter was crouched beside a blanket-draped troll, a young whelp by the scent of it. "Who is this then?"

"I- I don't know. He scrambled over the fence. The daylight hurt him. Could you give me a hand?"

Draal sighed and walked out, pulling the blanket aside so he could assess the damage. A troll of Blinky's clan, the whelp had four arms and six eyes, small horns that were only just beginning to grow, the bare tips of his teeth just poking out above his lower lip, and matted hair. The lower right arm and much of his right side was sun-stained, as well as part of his face and eyes, and other glancing spots as they'd run through the trees. And that didn't even cover the multitude various nicks and scratches that were bleeding sluggishly.

Draal scented the air again and frowned, prodding a few of the wounded areas with surprising gentleness. He determined that most of the damage was on the surface, though some the deeper wounds were rather suspicious. What was so young a troll doing outside of Trollmarket, and away from their parents?

Deeming the female whelp stable enough to pick up and move around, Draal wrapped the blanket more snugly around her and scooped her up, taking care with the sun-stained wounds, moving back into the house. The warrior brought the whelp straight to the basement, setting her down before the furnace.

Jim trailed after him, concern on his features. "I have to go to Trollmarket soon. I plan to tell Blinky about him," Jim gestured at the unconscious troll, "Do you think he'll be able to help him?"

"/ _Her_ /, Trollhunter. The whelp is female, and terribly young to be wandering alone." Draal corrects, sitting beside the troll girl like an overly muscled mother hen.

"Alright, do you think Blinky will be able to help her?" Jim amends, sitting beside the wounded troll as well. If he were to guess, Jim would say the young troll was about Toby's height, features softer than Blinky's in her youth.

"I certainly hope so." Draal replies, glancing down at the smallish figure.

Jim nodded once, glanced once more at the small troll he'd rescued, and ascended the basement stairs, tidying up the house before his departure to Trollmarket.

He checked in with Draal one last time before going on his way, meeting up with Toby nearer the canal.

Blinky and Aaarrrggh were waiting underneath the bridge, having just opened the way with the horngazel.

"Blinky, Aaarrrggh!"

"Master Jim!"

"Something wrong?" Aaarrrgh asks, sniffing the air around the Trollhunter.

"Yeah, something is very wrong! A young troll just appeared in my backyard, she's hurt!"

"Well, then we mustn't delay. Let us go forth!"

Upon reaching the house, Jim first checked to make sure his mom wasn't home. The coast was clear, but he was surprised to find the troll girl on the kitchen floor, the blanket draped more haphazardly over.

Immediately dropping beside the troll whelp, Blinky pulled the blanket off; then tugged the fabric back up around her waist, clearing his throat uncomfortably. But, he examined her wounds regardless, noting areas where the sun-stained patches were lingering, or fading, the deep gouges in arm and side and face, the bleeding sluggish, but not slowing on its own.

"We must get her to Trollmarket. Vendel will have the medicines needed to heal her properly." That said, Blinky laboriously picked up the troll whelp, huffing slightly as he maneuvered back out the door. Aaarrrggh, who had poked his head inside but not fully entered, backed away to give Blinky some room.

He held out his arms, asking, "Need help?"

He opened his mouth to refuse, before seeing the wisdom in allowing his big friend to carry the young whelp. It had been some time since he had seen another of his clan, and he was reluctant to let them out of his sight. At the same time, there was no point in overtaxing himself now if his services may be required later.

Aaarrrggh took the young troll gently, maneuvering over the fence, and lumbering off towards Trollmarket with Blinky, Jim, and Toby trailing after him. Into Trollmarket they went, navigating the marketplace with little hassle and, made straight for Vendel. Blinky followed close behind Aaarrrggh, fretting quietly to himself over the state the troll whelp was in. The fact that she'd hardly stirred in all this time was alarming him, to say the least.

Entering the elder troll's quarters, Vendel rose, glancing over them, his blind gaze lingering a moment upon the troll whelp before gesturing towards the nest nearby. Aaarrrggh nodded and set her down gently, lightly nudging one of her arms onto the nest proper, rather than hanging off the side.

Jim explained how he had come to find her as Vendel examined and treated various wounds, taking care with a hand where the sun-staining had seeped in deep, and an eye on the same side that had taken significantly more damage. Aside from some nicks from some sort of blade, already long-sinced healed, the rest of the wounds were self-inflicted by the young one's own claws.

This was very troubling, as was the fact that the only clothes she had was a skirt that had been shredded to the the point of indecency, and recently at that.

Blinky's ears flattened when Vendel gave him the news, glancing at the troll whelp with obvious concern. He saw then that one of her ears was pricked towards them, obviously listening.

Vendel noticed this as well, remarking to Blinky as the six-eyed troll scampered over, "Ah, it seems our mysterious friend is awake."

Blinky gently tilted the girls face up, asking, "Can you open your eyes?" as another hand brushing over the long bristly hair, pushing it away from her eyes.

She did as he asked, though one of her left eyes was encrusted with lifeless stone and refused to open. Blue eyes, crystalline, looked up at him, recognition sparking within them, a startled intake of breath. "Blinky . . . ?"

"That is indeed I, though how you know me by sight I am curious to know." Blinky replied, suddenly intrigued but trying to remember caution in the back of his mind. Her eyes, he noted, were very unusual, the like of which he hadn't seen before in those of his clan. "For I have never seen you before this time."

The young whelp slowly shook her head, wincing sharply as more of the pain became apparent. "I don't know . . . ow. . ."

Vendel came to the side of the nest now, and the young whelps eyes sparked with recognition once again, mingled with confusion this time.

"I am glad to see you are awake. You have many wounds -most of which are very concerning- and have been unconscious for quite some time. How do you feel?"

"Stiff . . . and oddly heavy. Everything feels weird . . . and everything else looks fuzzy." she answered slowly, minutely shifting underneath the blanket, testing her body for herself as she replied.

"Hmm. Well, I saw no signs of a concussion. Can you recall how you were injured in this way? Many of your wounds appear to have been dealt by your hands." Vendel asks, leaning over her a little.

The whelps face scrunched as she struggled to recall. At last, she said, "I . . . was in pain. Everything hurt. I think . . . I tried to hold myself, I was so afraid, felt like I was. . . about to lose all of myself. Then . . . there was the sunlight. I fled and collapsed. . . someone helped me." she faltered a moment, eyes shutting, a grimace on her face. "I . . . I / _think_ / someone helped me. I can't remember much besides pain . . ."

Vendel nodded his head, stroking his gray beard. "Can you remember your name?"

Blinky began to remark, "Of course she does, that's-"

"No! I . . . I don't remember . . ."

Completely derailed, Blinky looked back down at the young girl, somewhere in her eighties or nineties, still just a child. A note of panic in her voice, a clear struggle as she attempted to recall her own name, and failed.

"Calm down, young whelp. There is nothing to panic over. However you came to forget, you are safe here." Vendel laid a gentle hand on one of her shoulders, halting her panic in a heartbeat. "Whomever you may choose to be, if you cannot remember, is up to you. Just know that there are those more than willing to help you, here."

The whelp nodded slowly, shifting slightly under the blankets. Vendel stood, but before he left, she spoke again, "Mabye I can't remember much . . . but I do recall someone saying 'Silver' . . . calling it out into the darkness. I . . .would like to be known as Silver, until I can figure out my own past."

Vendel raised his brows, the name unconventional among trolls, but nodded once and continued on his way. Blinky watched him go, then turned back to the young whelp.

"Silver? An unusual name, to be fair, among trolls." he remarks.

Her ears flattening somewhat, defensive suddenly. "It felt right, and I am sticking with it!"

"I am not arguing your choice, young Silver. Are you in any pain?" Blinky inclined his head, a little surprised at the vehemence of her response.

Silver shook her head slowly. "No . . ."

"Good! Let me or Vendel know if you feel it coming back, and he or I can give you more." Blinky smiled, but it slipped a little when Silver lifted her head just a little, peering down at her blanket-covered self.

"Am . . . I roughed up that badly? I feel like it should hurt more . . . I feel so weird." Her face screwed up slightly in confusion, but she lowered her head a few moments later.

"If you need to rest, you may. I have some other matters to attend to, but I will be by later." Blinky said softly, pulling the blanket more snugly around her shoulders.

Silver blinked up at him, then nodded and turned her head to the side, eyes closing. Blinky remained at her side for several more minutes, until her breathing was even and steady. Standing slowly, he left, glancing back at her before rounding the corner and making his way out of Vendel's quarters. Leaving the Heartstone behind altogether, the historian made of the Hero's Forge, where Aaarrrggh, Master Jim, and Tobias were training.

Or rather, supposed to be. They were taking a break by the time he arrived, and he quickly got them to work. All he said on the matter of the whelp Silver was that she would live, and recover. He ignored all other questions in favor of training once more.

 **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER**

A few days later, Silver was going a bit mad laying around in bed. Where Vendel had been kind to her, distributing medicines and offering food and drink, Blinky's presence was overbearing.

Not to say that she didn't dislike the troll, but she wanted to get up and move around, and he had firmly stamped the idea out of existance, "Not until you're fully healed!" he had proclaimed, helping her to eat some kind of meet and fire-toasted mushrooms on skewers the day previous. He could never stay for particularly long, and half the time when he left he muttered something about training someone.

She was more than ready to stand up, walk around, and figure out where she was. She wanted to explore and learn, and didn't appreciate that little information had been offered to her so far.

So, one day shortly after Blinky had left and Vendel retired to his own nest, she pushed her arms underneath her and sat up with a pained grunt. The blanket falling away, she glanced over herself, the first good look she'd gotten since waking up a few days ago. Already aware of her four arms, she lifted each of them in turn now, feeling the oddness of her thick stone-skin as she slowly moved each individual finger.

It took effort on her part to move the lower set at all, predisposed to the upper one, for some reason or another. Next, she examined her stubby legs, kicking them back and forth lightly.

/ _Won't be able to move very fast with these,_ / she noted, turning her attention to her torso and scant clothing. / _Oh dear. . . did I. . . did I really do this to myself. . .?_ /

Largely ignoring the few lingering patches of sun-stained flesh, Silver's attention remained fixated on various gouges dug into her skin, primarily on her sides and shoulders. Probing the marks, she winced, feeling the warning throb of pain, and proceeded with greater care, testing the limits as she stretched and twisted her body. Next feeling at her face, finger brushing over her nose, her six eyes -one of which was encrusted with stone and could not see- and the errant clawmarks that were scattered over her skull, cheeks, and one side of her throat.

She truly wasn't in any shape to do anything even remotely athletic, but Silver remained resolute about her decision. Edging her way off the bed, she landed on her feet with a thump. She grabbed the edge when she wobbled, and slowly began to walk along the edge of it, recovering her balance. When she was satisfied that she wouldn't simply collapse midway through her little foray, Silver then grabbed the discarded human blanket and tied it around her waist with some difficulty.

Whatever she had been wearing before had been properly shredded, and she wasn't about to go running around half-naked. Moving with caution and near-silence, Silver followed the corridor that Blinky always seemed to take, soon finding herself outside the glowing red-orange walls of Vendel's home.

What greeted her was the sight of a simply massive cavern, stretching high up overhead, littered with crystals of various sizes and shapes and colors, all aglow with magic. Illuminated by this light, she noted the bridge that sprawled out in front of her, the dotted lights coming from small windows across the cavern to her left, and to her right, noted the darkened, empty stands of what must be the Marketplace proper.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Silver made her way down the bridge, and from there into a deep, wide crevice. It took her many long minutes worth of wandering to find the tunnel that opened out into Trollmarket. She suspected that the others lead to private homes or shops or who knows where?

Now within Trollmarket itself, she began to poke around in some of the shops as she wandered, curious about troll customs and traditions that she could not remember. She didn't see the harm in it, but stuck to the shadows as much as possible regardless, her still-healing wounds making her cautious by habit. Why this habit existed, she could not be sure, but she kept to it vigilantly nonetheless.

A small mrow caught her attention, and she followed the noise into one of the closed down stands. There were some cages with cats inside, some knives, and rolls of leather and slabs of thin rock. Most of the cats were asleep, but one was awake and pawing at the crude bars, meowing and meowing in distress. Silver crept up to the bars and gently pet the cat with one finger through the bars, gazing over it and the surrounding area in an attempt to figure out what was wrong.

At last, she spotted the fluffy pile of small kittens, tucked in the back of the cage. Slowly shifting around, Silver tried to look where the mother cat was looking. A small white with kitten with black spots and stripes had escaped the cage, scrawny and tiny compared to its larger siblings. Moving over to it, she gently picked it up and moved back to the cage, where the mother watched anxiously.

The kitten opened its mouth in a silent mew, revealing it's tiny pink mouth, and the little white face that was covered with a blotch of black, smack-dab over it's eye. Her own eyes widening, Silver gently pet its head, doing her best to soothe it.

Glancing at the mother cat and then back down at the small kitten, Silver only said, "I'm sorry," and left, holding the kitten close with her right upper arm. With her lower left out of commission, encrusted far to heavily with stone to function properly, the troll whelp used her two remaining hands to retie the blanket, so that it had a small pocket on her hip.

Slipping the kitten within and keeping her hand over it, Silver continued to make her way through the marketplace, seeking out anything else of interest along the way. However, in the course of things, she ended up getting completely turned around and, for all her wandering, couldn't find her way back to Vendels' dwelling. Finally deciding to try and get a better viewpoint, Silver scrambled up a set of stair that lead into a darker corridor and turned about.

The massive cavern was just as impressive as before, if not more so. Spotting the giant, glowing red-orange crystal and the bridge leading up to it, the troll whelp assumed that it must be Vendel's home. How to find her way back was a problem, but something else was nagging at her at present.

A bone-deep hum, pulsing through her frame ever since she had awoken here, foreign and strange but not unpleasant. Gazing now upon the massive gem, Silver would have sworn she saw it brighten, for just a moment.

Startling at a sudden noise behind her, Silver spun on her heel and gazed upon the cavern behind her, aglow with soft blue light. Venturing in, she gazed up at the spiral staircase of glowing blue crystals, going up and up. Her ears pricked when she heard voices and realized that someone was coming. Glancing around rapidly for some place to hide, Silver scuttled off and found such a place just behind a row of televisions some distance off, crouched and huddling in on herself.

A voice that she recognized as Blinky's filtered to her ears through the soft static hiss of the T.V.'s, with the occasional lower rumble of the person accompanying him. When they had passed, she waited several more minutes before even daring to wander out, going in the exact opposite direction to avoid them. She was no where near done with her little adventure, certain that Blinky would try and tie her to the bed when he found out.

She continued her exploration of the marketplace, doing her best to map out the place in her mind. However, as she had started out lost to begin with, she couldn't very well become unlost now.

Close to an hour later, feeling exhaustion weigh upon her frame, Silver sat down in a small nook within the cavern wall, at the farther edge of Trollmarket. Taking out the sleeping kitten and holding him close in her lap, she sighed, petting it's soft fur gently.

"Hm. I don't know how to get back to Vendel's dwelling. I don't know a lot of things . . ."

Trailing off sullenly, Silver brightened suddenly, holding the scrawny kitten up to her face, nuzzling it gently.

"I'm going to call you Inkblotch. You look just like a piece of parchment that some scribbled and spilled ink all over." she declared.

The newly named Inkblotch opened his eyes, a bright amber color, and mewed softly. Snuggling the kitten close, Silver yawned and half-curled on her side, dozing off. . .


	3. Stolen-Lost-Found

**A/N: Warning for descriptions of Blood, Violence, Injuries, Abuse and Death. Do not like, do not read. You've been waaarrrrnnnneeedddddd.**

* * *

The nest was empty. Vendel appraised the distinct lack of troll whelp, before shaking his head and settling his hands behind his back. There was little he could do, except to wait for Blinkous to show up, or Aaarrrggh. It had been rather foolish to think that the young whelp would so closely adhere to the guidelines Blinkous had set down for her, forbidding her from leaving the nest at all until she was fully recovered.

She didn't seem disobedient by nature, nor rebellious; in fact, she listened to every instruction and followed it to the letter, whenever Vendel had instructed her in the days past on how to apply her own medicine -he'd noticed her stiffen when he'd laid hands on her before, a subconscious reaction- and to move certain limbs to see if there was any further damage, or how well she was healing.

He'd explained why she had to do what he had instructed, when she asked, and that seemed to be the crux of the problem at present; Blinkous fretted over her, but didn't pay much mind to her questions, brushing them aside with the promise that in due time, she would learn, and that for now, she must heal. She stopped to ask after the first day, but not in acceptance of the historians ruling, but with the realization that he wouldn't answer any of her inquiries.

Well, her scent was already many hours old, and the Market was bustling with trolls going about their business, covering her tracks quite neatly. He hoped she wouldn't get into too much trouble. Given most of her inquiries seemed to be about trolls themselves, he had to assume that whatever had erased the memories from her mind had also claimed anything remotely related to trolls and their culture. Which in turn meant, it was very likely she'd try to get into things.

Shaking his head, Vendel mentally prepared himself, just hearing someone entering the Heartstone; Blinkous no doubt, coming to check on the whelp Silver. He was certainly in for a surprise, and Vendel wasn't eager to interact with the soon-to-be-frantic historian.

Books fell to the ground in a heap when Blinkous rounded the corner, expression changing from a smile to shock and dismay in a heartbeat. Running up to the nest and gripping it's edge, he then turned towards Vendel, as frantic as the much older troll had predicted.

And his panicked shouting and angered demands would CERTAINLY help him find her.

"Blinkous Galadrigal! Is it truly that surprising that one of your clan would seek out information when it was refused her?"

Blinkous backed away a pace as Vendel loomed over him, taken aback and flabbergasted as the elder troll unceremoniously cut him off. He stuttered to reply, then slumped somewhat, losing most of his own vigor.

"No . . . no, you're . . .right." he admitted, wringing his hands.

"Well, then when you find her, you'd better handle things better. Now, be off!"

Vendel gestured sharply towards the doorway, and as Blinkous scrambled off, calling out for Aaarrrggh, he chuckled softly to himself, stroking his beard.

Blinkous may yet be too paranoid off the stray coincidence, and eyebrow-deep in his collection of books and training the Trollhunter, but he was by no means heartless. To find one of his clan so young, after so many years, must remind him of many old fears, and many old joys. Hopefully, he'd handle this situation well on his own. Parenthood could not and would not ever be easy, even for prepared parents . . .

 **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER**

Silver awoke abruptly, feeling herself lifted off the ground by a large stone hand. Latching onto it with all of her working ones, she glared into the face of an angry troll that stood more than three times her height. Cupped within his other hand was-

"Inkblotch! Hey! Put me down and give me back my cat!" She squalled, wriggling and squirming with all of her might.

"/ _Busagul_ /! You STOLE this cat! Your scent was all over my booth and my cages." His hand squeezed her torso in warning, agitating her wounds, forcing the air from her lungs.

She held back any hint of pain, bottling it up and snarling, the painless thrill of battlerush pouring through her as she screamed:

"I / _DID NOT/_!"

Snapping her teeth as deep into his hand as possible, she managed to land on her feet when the much larger troll roared in pain and dropped her. Darting forward and snatching Inkblotch from where the kitten had been dropped, she ducked when the troll swiped at her, the trolls uninjured hand practically brushing her hair. Falling into a low crouch, she quickly looked up at him and lunged forward not even half a moment later, headbutting him right in the gronknucks.

As soon as the much larger troll fell to his knees, groaning in pain, Silver wasted no more time, running away as fast as her stubby legs could carry her. Ribs aching, wounds sparking with dull agitation, she recognized the ensuing crash that typically followed when the edge of her battlerush had worn off.

Memories tugged at her mind, wisps of things familiar yet distant, distant, surrounded by fog, detached from her life, but looming up into it nonetheless.

She didn't know how she knew how to fight that larger troll. She didn't know why she was so familiar with that rush of energy and strength that allowed her to brush aside pain, flowing through her, carrying her like a might river. Or her awareness of the resulting crash as it faded and left her to her painful wounds and crippling fear, invincible to vulnerable in a flash.

Fuzzy spots of darkness crowded the edges of her vision, pain overwhelming her body, Silver hurried to find some sort of refuge, some deep crack in the earth, small enough that groping hands would be unable to reach. Her vision darkening further, every movement sending a jolt of pain through her ribs, a throb through her healing scratches, stretching the edges of her sun-stained flesh.

Finding a corridor that appeared dimmer than most, she scrambled into it, completely unaware of her surroundings when her abused, battered body finally gave out, darkness overwhelming her mind.

Darkness . . .

 **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER**

 _/Darkness._

 _Rocks._

 _An occasional glowing geode, dim and tainted, reflecting the sickly, blackened aura of this place._

 _Her rocky flesh was pale in comparison, easily giving her away, and she was yet too young and too weak to give a proper fight a try._

 _There were other whelps here, too. She could scent them sometimes, especially their spilled blood. She had seen how her fellow trolls were pitted against one another in bloody combat, sometimes one on one, but more often in large, blood-spilling royale's where only the strongest, or cleverest, or most underhanded of them survived to live another day._

 _Any whelp that survived five fights in a row was taken away, and never seen again._

 _The sulfurous, rubbery scent of goblins was almost always ever-present, so much it hardly registered to her anymore. Neither did the scent of blood, not unless it was particularly fresh. She had the feeling that this hadn't always been the case . . . some bare wisps of memory telling her of a place that smelled like old parchment and fresh ink and dried herbs, smoked meat and fire and . . . and fa. . . and something else. Something that made her feel safe, and welcomed._

 _The memories were far too distant and obscure for her to pay much attention to them. Not when she had to focus on the present._

 _Head spinning dizzily, one arm throbbing with pain, her eyes unfocused and vision fuzzy, the young whelp stared blearily up at the much larger troll whelp, cracking his knuckles and snarling as he paced closer, wary of a trap, eyes aglow in the darkness._

/E̵̸̡͘͡m͟҉̢i͞͏͘̕͡k̶̷͜͠o̴̕͢,̧͟ ̷͢҉̷͢ _, /the voice echoed in her ears, ringing with dizziness. Her vision swam._ ̴̧̛́͝/E͜͡͠m̨̕i͏̧͜k҉o̷͏̷͝ ̧͡͏A̴̧͡͏k͘͞҉̷̧į̵̶͞v̢̀͞a̡͘͝ _,_ get̨ ͟up̵,̶ i̛ţ i̴s͠ not ͝your̢ t͠i҉m̷e̷ ̢t͞o̡ d̀ie͞./

 _The name meant nothing to her, the voices distorted, unfamiliar. She suddenly saw herself being tackled and pinned by the larger troll whelp, hands around her throat, snapping her neck. She gasped, but felt no pain. She still felt cold stone beneath her, sensed and heard the troll whelp snarling and growling, the footsteps as he approached, wanting to live but not wishing death upon her._

 _This was her first fight, and throughout it, there was only pain and misery. She had been kept far longer than any other troll whelp, covetously hidden away from the fighting, allowed to watch the bloody battles but otherwise isolated. There was always a goblin to accompany her, but she could not say whether she was treated better or worse than the other children. Rarely fed, rarely given water, with nothing but cold stone to curl up upon, no comfort given, only rough blows about her face and ears if she didn't follow a command fast enough._

/Oculus/ _, they called her. The goblins whispered the name from one to another. A name she did not understand, but had long-ago embraced as her own. She did not think the other whelps had proper names. Not anymore._

/Impure/, _the goblins muttered to themselves, more than happy to beat upon the already much-abused whelps,_

/Changeling/ _, shepherding the winners of the fights away, clearing away the dead or dying bodies of the unfortunate whelps that had been beaten or strangled or broken to uselessness._

/Forsaken one/ _, they hissed at her during resting time, disrupting her sleep, /_ Bound to fate and fateless bound!/

 _Once more, she saw the larger troll whelp lunge and snap her neck, even as he still approached her. Her head pounding with agony, Oculus lifted her head, seeing the whelp finally gathering himself to lunge at her, heard goblins hissing and cackling. Flooded with a sudden rush of adrenaline, she managed to roll aside just as the whelp lunged, and leaped upon his back, wrapping her small hands around his throat._

 _Gripping with both pairs of arms as far around as she could go, she tightened her grip and dug in her claws. Stone-skin gave way and she felt blood seep, felt the spasms of the whelps chest as he gasped for air. The scent of blood filled her senses, the gurgles as the whelp beneath her choked on his own blood in his desperate bid for air echoed in her ears. The whelp collapsed, half-rolling onto his side, but Oculus clung on, until the heaving body went still, and continued to hold on._

 _She didn't release the troll whelp. He crumbled to stone in her grasp, leaving his blood on her hands as she fell forward among the shards._

 _A single goblin screeched, signalling the end of the fight. Shepherded away, she heard the stone scrap cleared away and two more young whelps lined up for the next round of fighting, hissing and snarling, fear in their voices and mock anger in their stances and thumping feet._

 _A goblin struck her across the back of her head, causing her to stumble and almost fall. Growling softly, Oculus spun on her heel and punched it in the face, snarling more openly, daring it try that again.  
_

 _Glaring at her, it muttered hateful words in Trollish, but did not strike her again, standing upright, keeping his distance. Turning her back, she stalked off to a lonely crack in one wall, wedging herself within._

 _She did not cry, did not sob or mourn for the life she had taken. Nor did Oculus savor the victory, felt any relief at being alive, or fear that she wouldn't be so lucky the next time. All she could see, over and over and over again, was her own neck snapping and the young whelp being herded away to wherever fifth-winners were taken, the words_ Impure! Impure! _Echoing in her mind._

 _It was far from her last fight. Time was difficult to judge, without a sun or moon or stars (she only learned what these things were later on, after she'd been taken away for good), and were primarily judged by sleep-cycles or feeding times. Three sleep-cycles later, she was dragged from her crevice and set to fight an opponent much smaller than she._

 _But this small whelp was fast and vicious, biting and clawing. It had taken a good hour before she managed to finish the fight, once more returned to her crevice, ignoring taunts and jibes from the goblins, feeling no victory or relief that she'd won, no horror or sorrow for the unfortunate troll whelp she'd slaughtered, closing her eyes and trying to sleep. . ._

"W _a_. . . _p_. . . .

" . . .k _e u_ . . .S. . . _er_. . .

". . .il. . _r_ . . .

". . .w _a_ k _e_ . . .

" . . . _up_ . . ./

" **WAKE UP!** "

Jolting upright, Silver looked around in desperation, dream abandoned like ripped cobwebs as she rapidly checked her surroundings for any threat, any danger, ready to act, to fight, to _run_ -

Blinking up into two large, deep pools of green concern, Silver froze up as confusion played out across her face as she took in the larger troll.

 **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER**

Aaarrrggh gazed down at the small whelp curled in the corridor leading to Rot-Gut's apothecary. She was so . . . well, so / _small_ /. He'd known that Silver was a small troll, he'd helped to carry her down to Trollmarket, after all! And yet, seeing her curled up as she was, sleeping fitfully, her pain clear even as she rested, only reinforced this knowledge.

So little, only a little taller than Toby, with pale blue-white skin that was still littered with sun-stained spots and deep gouges, rent by her own claws, many reopened and encrusted with dried blood. Even more blood stained her lips and the teeth that protruded her lower jaw, but he couldn't see any wounds there. And of course, there were other, older nicks and scars left on her flesh from something or other, particularly near her throat, on her chest, and upper back, the scars gray-white and stark against her pale skin, crystal-like in appearance, but dull.

All this put together with her makeshift garment and curled, defensive sleeping posture, gave Aaarrrggh the firm impression that she was very young, and needed protection. Her actions and her scars spoke of a life fraught with danger, where habit dictated to always be ready to defend herself from harm, independent of help and seeking only to live another day, no matter the expense by all likelihood.

All this he realized almost immediately after finding her, but now, he hesitated on his next course of action.

Ever since Blinky had come to him, hollering about the whelp being missing before racing off to try and locate Master Jim, Aaarrrggh had begun searching the Market for her. His clan had a much sharper sense of smell than most trolls, and even hours-old and overrun but multiple other troll-scents, he had had little trouble in tracking her down.

He could also smell cat, now that he was right on top of her, and another trolls scent that clung to her body, and of course the blood. Fresh blood.

Uncertain whether or not to pick her up, nor how safe it was for the whelp to remain asleep with her wounds reopened, Aaarrrggh finally nudged her gently as he called out, "Wake up. Silver, wake up! Wake up! Silver! **WAKE UP!** "

The whelp jolted awake, her scent tainted with fear, body stilling as she looked around rapidly. She looked up at him, meeting his concerned gaze, her own eyes widening with fright and confusion.

Aaarrrggh shifted a little, uncomfortable all of a sudden. He could only imagine how frightening he must appear to the young troll, who clearly had a very rough life before she had been found, even if she couldn't remember it. He recognized how she scanned for danger, muscle memory dictating her actions, only confirming that her life had been far rougher than any whelps should be.

The fear faded from her features and from the air, and she smiled slightly up at him, much to Aaarrrggh's surprise. "H-hello."

"Silver, hurt?" he asked, slowly reaching out a hand.

She watched him with a wariness that he didn't think she noticed, and it broke his heart a little to realize just how guarded she was, and how difficult it must be to trust anyone, really. But to his surprise, she didn't pull away. "Y-yeah. . . who are you?"

"Aaarrrggh. Three R's. Friend." offering her his hand outright, Aaarrrggh found himself surprised once more that she took it immediately, and without any fear. It couldn't be easy for her to immediately trust something so much larger than herself, and from what he'd heard about her apparent memory loss, it was very likely that she knew practically nothing about trolls.

Despite this, she appeared comfortable with him, relaxing as much as her wounds allowed her too. In one hand she held a small cat, and he had to wonder if she'd stolen it. If so, the scent of another troll made sense, if it was an angry shop-keeper. Aaarrrggh was broken from his thoughts when he felt her stumble against his arm, clutching at it with two hands to remain upright on the stairs.

"Carry Silver?" He rumbled, offering his hand.

She looked up at him, really looked, expression vulnerable, uncertain; and then she nodded.

Gently picking Silver up, Aaarrrggh began to lumber off to Blinky's library. She tensed at first, then relaxed and allowed him to hold her close to his chest, tucked underneath his large head.

"Where are we going?"

"Blinky's home."

He picked up on her soft growl, shrinking slightly in his grasp, face pressed into his fur. Aaarrrggh continued on, although he had to wonder why she wouldn't want to see the historian. Blinky wasn't a bad troll, he was in fact very kindly. Did she fear punishment for disobeying? Whatever the reason, Aaarrrggh didn't believe Blinky would be especially harsh with her, given how panicked he was when he'd first found his large friend.

A few trolls whispered and stared as he passed, but he paid them no mind, growling softly at one or two that strayed too close for comfort.

Reaching Blinky's library, they are first met by Jim. "Oh, hey Aaarrrggh! Oh!" The young human's eyes widened in alarm at the sight of blood, spinning on his heel, "Blinky, Aaarrrggh found her! She's in rough shape!"

"WHAT?!"

Aaarrrggh felt Silver shift in his hold when Jim dashed back into the library, and a sharp flinch at Blinky's resounding cry. "Who's . . . he? Doesn't look like a troll."

"Master Jim. Trollhunter. Human. Found you."

"Oh."

She didn't give any reply beyond that, stilling in Aaarrrggh's grasp, alert.

Entering Blinky's home, they were met by the very same troll rushing towards them, various medical supplies tucked under his arms, clearly panicking but trying to hide that fact. Silver flinched straight back into Aaarrrggh's chest when Blinky suddenly got in her space, a low growl spilling from her lips.

Taken aback by this, Blinky froze, a few of his eyes darting up to his large friends, while the rest remained trained on the injured whelp. Slowly, he backed away. Clearing his throat, stalling for time, Blinky finally spoke:

"My apologies, Silver, if my services before were, erm, less than satisfactory. If you will allow me, I swear that I will do better, in the future."

Silver shifted in his grasp, then slid off his arm, walking up to Blinky as though her wounds were nothing. She laid a hand on one of his arms, and smiled. "Accepted, on both accounts."

Blinky must have noticed the faint wobble in her frame the same moment Aaarrrggh had, for the historian almost immediately steadied the whelp when she began to stumble, her five working eyes wincing shut.

"Can you walk?" Blinky asked gently, realizing that they were not quite within the sanctity library yet.

" . . .no."

"Carry Silver?" Aaarrrggh offered his large hand once more, and Silver nodded, allowing the much larger troll to pick her up, cradling her close as he followed Blinky into the library.

Jim and Toby were already inside, and both gaped at the sight of the wounded whelp. Blinky directed Aaarrrggh to place Silver on his own bed, applying medicines and bandages the wounds shut with tight leather wraps to help stop the flow of blood. He would offer the idea to help seal her wounds with boiling metal, but he suspected that she wouldn't know, or remember that particular normality of troll culture.

For now, Blinky's medicinal knowledge and care seemed to be doing the trick, for among the blend of herbs and magic in the salve he was applying to her wounds, were both anti-infection and painkillers; the young whelp was already relaxing, running a gentle hand over the small cat she'd hung onto this whole time.

Blinky vanished after he'd given as much care as he could at present, before returning a few minutes later with a container of water and some clean rags. Clearing his throat, he held both items up for Silver to see.

"We have public baths in the residential area of the Market, but I don't want you to soak in them right now, it'd wash away the medicine. But you are covered in blood, and I don't imagine you'd want to remain covered in it for that length of time."

Silver nodded and slowly slipped to the floor, leaving the small cat on the nest, and took the cloths and water herself, beginning to clean herself up. Blinky stooped down to help her, and after a moments staring contest, she nodded her head in consent of his help. Once Silver is cleaned up and Blinky has gone to dispose of the murky water and soiled rags, the whelp stands and crawls back onto the nest, taking the tiny cat in hand again.

She turned her gaze on Jim and Toby, head tilting with her curiosity. "So, who are you two?"

"I'm Jim Lake, this is my friend Toby D." Jim held out his hand to shake, and Silver accepted, nodding a little.

"Aaarrrggh tells me you're the Trollhunter? Sounds a bit backwards to me, whatever it means."

By the time Blinky returned, bearing food for all those present, Toby and Jim were knee-deep in describing Jim's adventures since the Amulet had chosen him, what they'd learned so far of troll history and culture, and some discussion about Trollhunters past, besides the threat of Bular and Gunmar, goblins, changelings, sunlight, the moon, stars and constellations . . .

On and on it went, especially after Blinky joined in the discussion. Aaarrrggh occasionally rumbled a reply to a question, or used his limited knowledge of English to help explain some aspect of a story point, but he remained largely silent. Observing Silver, he watched as a whole new side to her opened up.

He could see how much she craved knowledge, soaking up every word like moss soaking up water, ears pricked and eyes bright. She genuinely loved to learn, eagerly asking questions and listening with respect. She wanted to leave Trollmarket itself, and go above ground to learn about human tradition and culture as well, as she enthusiastically expressed, on top of her desire to learn what she'd forgotten of her own culture.

Whatever life she'd lived before, whatever scrappy reflexes she possessed, Silver wasn't merely a a thick-headed warrior or thief, but a student, a scholar, hungering for knowledge the way most trolls hungered for food.

And so, Aaarrrggh vowed to himself right then and there, that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, as he had already vowed to protect his other friends from harm. It was a vow that he did not intend to break, and he would help Silver however and wherever he could.

Many hours later, Blinky and Silver was dead asleep in the library, and Jim, Toby, and Aaarrrggh had left Trollmarket and returned home. They all needed the rest, for who knew what the future would bring tomorrow. . .?

 **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER** **FINESTSILVERFINESTSILVER**

/ _Two Weeks Earlier . . ._ /

Strickler glared up at a much younger Changeling, who stared back at him much more passively, hanging upside down from a tree branch. They smirked at him suddenly, shifting their hands from their hoodie pockets to point finger guns at the history teacher, flicking them slightly in mockery of real pistols.

"So, whaddya want Chief? Was all the, you know, kidnapper-ing and secrecy really necessary?"

Well-aware of the teenagers need to act in-control and relaxed in any given situation, Strickler pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Get down from there. You were brought here to help us deal with a very serious matter, which could quite easily end with your demise if you don't cooperate."

Eyes flashing golden with fear, the teen shrugged (a very strange gesture from their upside-down perch) and didn't budge. "Oh, well, when you put it / _that_ / way. Go on."

Making a rolling motion with one hand, the teen steadfastly refused to move from their precarious perch, one hand curling back into their hoodie pocket while the other hung straight down, expression mild and without a care in the world.

"You know why you're here; we need your / _abilities_ / to aid us in stopping the Trollhunter and his companions before he can discover the bridge and learn how many of us are actually Changelings!"

The teenager mulled this over, eyes darting towards the setting sun's rays as they fell over distant hills and slipped between the trees. Debating how well refusing would work out for them, and what rewards they could reap if they agreed to help and remained cooperative.

At last, they looked back to Strickler and grinned, eyes aglow once more, this time with mirth and triumph.

"If I am to remain a captive against my will here in Arcadia, I demand candy and movie privileges!"

"Do you not realize that you have no choice, you insufferable brat? You either help the Janus order and Gunmar, or Bular himself will devour you!"

The teen visibly flinched at this, the wide smirk dropping immediately from their face.

/ _Good,_ / Strickler thought to himself. / _Perhaps know they'll-_ /

"Ahh!"

Their sharp yelp snapped Stricklers attention to the teen once more, their face twisted with agony, straining their arms for the tree branch so as to have a better handhold. However, another sharp convulsion swept over the teen and they lost their grip entirely, falling a good fifteen feet to the ground below.

Cursing aloud, Strickler lunged forward, but was too late to catch them. Unable to discern what was wrong, the elder Changeling began to gather the teen into his arms; secrecy be damned, the teenager needed a hospital! Striding off through the trees as they younger Changeling went limp, Strickler continued to curse internally at his own lack of decent research when it came to miss Melanie Belze.


End file.
